Songs of the Heart
by Moonlit Solstice
Summary: Everyone's souls were connected. Everyone moved on and found peace. Everyone met and found one another in God's Second Chance. But what about Shinn Yukimura, the guitarist who passed on before Otonashi even set foot in the Afterlife? OC-Centric. Complete.
1. Song of the Sun

"_Watashi no mama. . . Kimi wo. . ."_

_They both sang in unison, their voices harmonizing perfectly while the last, slow strum of the guitar indicated the ending of the song. But there was an ending to something else as well – or rather, someone._

_The raven-haired teen stared blankly toward the source of a lingering spotlight. His sapphire eyes no longer held a vengeful expression but an odd mixture of lost, carefree, and content. He knew what was happening. He knew he was going to disappear._

"_Shinn?" A voice spoke, trying to get his attention._

_He acknowledged the voice, but the alluring radiance emanating from the light kept him under its trance. "Iwasawa." He said barely above a whisper._

_It surprised her that she actually heard his inaudible murmur above the screaming NPCs and Yui, but she kept quiet, hoping the bad feeling inside her was wrong._

"_I feel it." He dropped his guitar pick, still blinding his eyes within the light. "I-I feel…" He paused to stare into the vermillion eyes he had become so infatuated with._

_They looked lost but not in the sense of being unable to locate something or even oneself – more like a puppy pleading its master to let it roam in restricted freedom. He smiled, understanding that familiar look. After all, he lived with it plastered on his face for so long._

"_Alive." He watched her eyes close and shift towards the ground. "I know. It sounds stupid, but… I…" Another pause, then a whisper. "I found it."_

"_What about the fight against God? Are just going to quit?" She scowled, not liking the course of the conversation._

_His lips curved downward, but he forced them into a smile. He stepped toward her, closing the small gap between them and placing a hand a top her head._

_A sigh escaped his lips. His time was nearly up, and as much as he hated long goodbyes, he would defy time itself if it meant making that moment. He rested his forehead on hers, letting his body be slowly taken away. Eyelids covered his own sapphire orbs, attempting to escape the harsh ascension._

"_Shinn." She stopped her voice from breaking, but she could not stop her heart._

_A shiver ran down her spine – in a split second her entire being. And in that moment, she felt him disappear, vanish as is he had never been there, as if he had never existed in the first place. She picked up the last remnant of his existence, holding on to his guitar pick as if it too would just disappear._

* * *

They all kept the promise they made to each other – that one day, whenever that may be, they would meet again in God's Second Chance. Because their souls were connected, bound by fate and tied by destiny. Everyone should have fulfilled that promise by now, but there was one person in particular whom Masami Iwasawa knew did not keep that promise.

"Hey, Iwasawa?" Hisako catches the vocalist's attention, squeezing in a small conversation minutes before class starts.

"Hmm?" Iwasawa turns toward her friend, whose expression is consumed by clear confusion.

"I was just thinking… about the SSS and GirlDeMo and stuff and…" The brunette pauses, carefully choosing her next words. "We've all met. GirlDeMo played a concert together and Yuri and the others were even there to see it."

Iwasawa holds her tongue, aware of the course this conversation may take – is taking. So, she prepares herself for whatever ache her heart will feel, reinforcing the barrier around the mending area in order to prevent any more possible damage.

"But what about Shinn?"

But the armor still cracks, the question piercing through its chink like an apparent bulls-eye, fracturing the supposed protection as well as scattering the pieces of her soul. She hides it though. She hides the anguish in her heart. Even if it somewhat opposes her beliefs, even if it causes the imperfect human inside her to close off to concealment, even if it forces her to practice and plaster a fake smile on her face, to ignore the urge to express her true sentiments, she hides just how much her entire being is breaking.

"I don't know." She forces away the sobs threatening her throat, making sure to keep her shattering heart shrouded.

Hisako cautiously eyes her friend, as if analyzing Iwasawa's expression and seeing through the expertly-crafted façade. Her mouth opens, but an outside voice interrupts her.

"Hisako! Iwasawa!" Did you hear!?" GirlDeMo's bassist, Sekine, bursts through the classroom's door and hastily locates her victims, Irie in tow.

"What now?" Hisako rolls her eyes before resting her head in her palm, annoyance clear in her tone.

"There's supposed to be a new student transferring here today." Irie explains. "The rumors say they were kicked out of their last school for missing class so much. Others say that they flunked out."

Hisako lets out a light snort. "Doesn't sound too impressive."

"Yeah, well. We just wanted to check in with you and Iwasawa." The blonde shoots the red-head a mischievous grin, carelessly jumping to conclusions. "Because ya know… It _could _be-"

"Okay class." Ms. Nakano, class 2A's homeroom teacher, positions herself in the front of the class, interfering in Sekine's speculation and calling for her students' attention.

"My sources say the transfer's got _some _talent in the Musical Arts." Sekine whispers hurriedly.

Both younger band members take the initiative to sneak out while the teacher's speech bores the adolescent youths, but as usual, Hisako's attention diverts while Iwasawa's eyes cloud gaze, her mind registering the newly-acquired information about the recently-transferred student. One phrase in particular stands out to her.

_Others say that they flunked out_

Her heart cannot help but feel an iota of hope, and her stomach cannot help but twist with butterflies. She thinks of one person in particular, the same person who shared her love of music, shared the same feelings with Sad Machine, who shared the same feelings with her in general. This person understood her – a life challenged by overwhelming obstacles, a hope rekindling the dying spirit to simply get up off the ground, and an unjust God tormenting, even taunting them, playing them as if they were fools and taking away the very thing that gave them happiness. But that's all in the past now.

A small smile creeps onto her lips when her mind settles on the thought of that person, her eyes still glancing from cloud to another and occasionally at her raven-haired teacher.

The smile turns into a bitter frown though, the same phrase that lifted her heart now anchoring the feather-like weight.

_Others say that they flunked out_

She should have never gotten her hopes up in the first place. A lot of students flunked out of school, especially those around her age, working a low pay job and living a dead beat life – no ambition nor aspirations worth striving for. Just passing, day by day, year by year, until the seemingly boundless stream of time finally runs dry.

Plus, who is to say that the transfer student is even a guy!?

She sighs. Hisako notices the saddened yet sour expression buried under her cool exterior, her eyes reading every unspoken thought in the vocalist's mind.

"Who knows who it could be?" Hisako's words somewhat ease Iwasawa. "Tell ya what, during lunch we'll scope out for this transfer student. We'll search every class." She smiles sincerely yet playfully.

Iwasawa slowly nods, trying desperately to quell the flames of optimism refusing to burn out and the goofy smile forcing its way out of confinement.

* * *

He does not know where he is, but he has to find a way out, his adolescent figure laying, floating in a sea of light. The plain, white nothingness envelopes him – so daunting and discouraging, intimidating every ounce of confidence in his wavering heart. But the plain, white nothingness comforts him – soothing the trembling soul quivering in his body. He manages to stand, though it looks as if he is hovering above the pale oblivion surrounding him.

"Ahh, you're up, I see. You have been sleeping for so long, sleeping for months." A masculine voice resounds with auspicious authority, causing the youth to shrink back.

Wherever the owner of the voice is, Shinn Yukimura could not find him. His cryptic, cobalt eyes darting left and right, up and down, are merely greeted by the boundless white that has imprisoned him.

"Tell me, Shinn. What is it you are searching for?" The tranquil booms of the voice echo throughout the snow-colored area.

Shinn, disregarding the surplus of knowledge this being may have, answers with controlled audacity. "You." His voice loses its volume. "Who are you? And how do I get out of here?" No care nor concern pertaining to his whereabouts, he solely wants a way out.

"My name is all but important. For across the world, I have many titles. You may call me what you wish." There is no mockery, no trickery, in the omnipotent voice. It is calm, aged with wisdom, sounding with years, maybe even centuries, of experience. "Why is it you wish to find a way out?"

Because he needs to find someone. Because he feels his heart pounding against his chest, his soul bursting against his skin. Because it is something he simply must do. Whether or not the reason is an obligation of duty or a desire for freedom, Shinn draws the strength swelling within his unbreakable soul. He takes a deep breath, conviction clear in his eyes and soon, his words.

"Because-" His voice stops, turning to nothing but a pitiful whimper, all aspects of confidence – lost, as if they had never existed. He looks down shamefully, his obsidian, raven-like hair shielding his eyes. "B-Because…" He stutters, no longer trusting his words, his voice, or even his 'unbreakable' soul.

"Why is it you wish to find a way out?" The voice repeats in such a tone to pressure him. It urges him to answer despite his sudden lack of knowledge.

The atmosphere turns heavy but only to the boy desperately wanting to remember. He knows that he needs to find a way out, but the reason for freedom escapes him. He closes his eyes in an attempt to search his mind, observing every empty crevice of thought consuming his voided memories.

His memories – nothing but a drought, a wasteland. Nothing but hollow nostalgia shadowing his soul, darkness surrounding. But through the obsidian obscurity, a grinding light pierces into view, and in that light, a small recollection.

* * *

_A boy, blinded by an alluring spotlight, stood on a stage, a girl holding an acoustic guitar situated beside him. Her cool eyes locking with his confident ones was enough of a gesture to tell him how broken he would soon make her, the tacit conversation heard above the thunderous screaming and the overly-audible cheering of their audience. She hid her eyes, breaking the stare and closing her eyelids. Something slipped from in-between his fingers, a silent crash that only the girl heard: a guitar pick._

_The subtle sound made her heart stop, but the roaring of their fans continued. Although she closed her eyes to what she did not want to see, she could not close her heart to what she did not want to feel – the sore throbbing searing into her veins. The moment she felt a warmth cover her forehead was the moment she felt a shiver chill her entire body, the moment she reluctantly opened her eyes to see the unbearable truth._

_He was gone, and she was still there, left with nothing but a mere remnant of his existence in her world. But even though the curve of her lips leaned downward, she urges them up._

* * *

His eyes open, gazing into the white distance. One word escapes his mouth, one memory lingering after the flood of amnesia. He whispers that word, and his lips cannot help but curve upward.

"Iwasawa. . ."

* * *

**A/N:**

**So, I don't own Angel Beats.**

**That is all.**


	2. Stand in the Rain

The rain beats sorely against her skin, dampening her already-soaked figure, but she does not care. The lightning flashes blindingly before her vermilion eyes, but she stares straight at the distant bolt. The thunder, howling through the gusts of wind and roaring in ferocity, deafens her ears, but she perks up and endures the everlasting screams. The moon, the only source of light shining in the apparent darkness, illuminates a single spot - a spot Iwasawa had become so acquainted with.

She sits alone in a park, claiming a seat on the swing she had sat in many times before. Her feet, lazily planted on the ground, softly rock her body forward before bringing her back, the action gaining its own paced rhythm. The repeating deed eases her more than the summer rain pounding into her cold, paled skin, more than the comforting words spewed from the mouths of her friends.

* * *

_"Don't worry, Iwasawa. We'll find him sooner or later." Hisako laid a hand on the vocalist's shoulder, shooting her a supportive smile._

_Operation: Search for the Transfer Student - Accomplished. But Operation: Search for Shinn - Failed. The rumored new student, flunked out of school and talented in the musical arts, turned out to be Yui; so the hunt Hisako and Iwasawa had conducted did not turn out to be a complete failure since the new-generation vocalist had reunited with the rest of the band._

_The moment of their reunion, Yui gave off a toothy grin, and in turn, the rest of GirlDeMo allowed themselves a smile. A sign of happiness and of community, signifying their eternal bonds and friendship that, even though they may forget each other, their souls would always be connected. They smiled, for they no longer had to bear the pain alone, no longer had to cry in solitude or carry the cross burdened on their shoulders. Not alone. Not anymore. Iwasawa was no longer alone, but _he_ was._

_He, who poured his very essence into one piece of music, whose only wish was to express how he truly felt and who he truly was. He, who no longer desired the lie his life seemingly was, whose heart stoned itself against fabrication and falsehood, soul against peril and corruption. He, who vanished the day her heart was set, whose warmth melted and eased her icy barrier._

_Her mind wondered. Where was he, at that very moment? Was he here on this earth, walking on the same ground she ran, breathing the same, summer-sweet air that that stung her nostrils? Was... Was he all alone? Suffering all alone? Lost in some place only God Knows? The happiness in Iwasawa's soul faded, the smile flickering off as easily as it came on. She barely noticed her own deteriorating happiness, but her mind completely missed the suspicious and all-knowing looks from her band mates._

_"The rest of us are here. So, it only makes sense that he's here too." Irie rationalizes._

_"After all, GirlDeMo isn't complete without him! Even if he is a guy..."_

_"Yea! We're all supposed to be like one big happy family!" Sekine and Yui add, respectively._

GirlDeMo isn't complete_. The words rang in her head, causing a resonance of sorts stir within her soul, a pang within her heart. The words echoed, and her endeavors to decipher the feeling end in futility, but she seemed oddly content with the unusual sensation._

GirlDeMo..._ The words echoed once more before she whispered the final part. "Isn't complete."_

* * *

An airy chuckle escapes her lips. She wants to believe what they said. She wants to believe that someday, sooner or later, she will live out the life that she could not formerly enjoy. A life with Hisako, Sekine, Irie, Yui, and the rest of the SSS; a life free of struggles and obstacles, of sorrows and aches; a life not restricting, not limiting, not prohibiting the happiness of her heart or the luxury of a smile; a life knowing no boundaries when it comes to opportunity and affection. She wants to believe for the better, no shadows and no regrets, not in this life.

But dedication to such beliefs grows thin when every strand of hope, every flame of faith, reduces to nothing but mere ash blown with a subtle breeze. She sighs, and her grounded feet stop the rocking motion of the swing. Regardless, the storm does not cease, neither care nor consideration expressed for the solitary vocalist. The thunder roaring in her ears and the water soaking her skin further dishearten her wavering spirit.

She looks up, allowing the droplets to enter her eyes and sting her pupils; the smell of the rain dances in and out of her nostrils. Deciding to finally head home, her mind trails off one last time, settling on the path leading to a peculiar raven-haired soloist.

* * *

"Iwasawa." Shinn repeats, locking his cobalt eyes on nothing in particular.

He is still in the white room, still looking for the owner of the mysterious, all-knowing voice talking to him, still searching for an escape, and still trying to remember.

"Let me find her." His voice nearly cracked. He considers begging on his knees, but his pride as a former Rebel Against God prohibits him from resorting to such means. Confidence, sounding too similar to anger, tones his next words. "Let me find Iwasawa."

"Masami Iwasawa." The voice recites her full name, as if contemplating or questioning Shinn's resolve.

"Shinn Yukimura." His own name sounds foreign in the volume of the voice, almost intimidating, but the boy does not waver, remaining silent in anticipation of a further response. "Why seek something you cannot clearly see? Why believe in an existence so obscured and uncertain?"

Shinn grows weary, being asked so many questions when knowing so little takes its toll on the secluded spirit. He takes a deep breath, filling his diaphragm to its full capacity, having grown accustomed to the feeling since he would use the technique so much when singing.

Slowly, he exhales the pent-up breath, ridding his heart of the demons devouring his conviction.

"I know she exists." He states simply.

"How are you so certain?"

A resonance sparks within his soul, and a pang in his heart causes him to hover a hand over his chest. A shiver runs down his spine, chilling - freezing his very being and somewhat paining his body. His tired eyes close, blinking away freshly-formed tears that he, himself, was not aware of.

* * *

_She sang her heart out, and she put her entire essence into her playing, her guitar. She was surrounded by friends and acquaintances alike, and the crowd in front of her merely observed her every movement, their sentiments stirred by sympathy and awe._

_They felt her - her true feelings, shattering the shell encasing the emotions she had hidden away for so long, breaking the barrier of her heart and destroying the dimensions trapping her longing-for-liberty soul. This was what she had yearned for, worked so hard for. This was her reason._

_"This is why I was born. Just as I was saved..."_  
_Just as she was saved by Sad Machine. And just a_s he _was saved._

_"I'll save someone else like this."_  
_She knew that_ he _was already gone but was ignorant to the fact that _she_ had rescued_ him_, that _she _had given_ him _a reason._

_"Finally... I finally found it."_  
_She finally understood why Shinn had said what he did all those days ago. She did not feel cheated or cut off, forgotten or agonized. She felt alive, like she could live with no regrets, like she could show the world her true colors, like she no longer had to hide herself and shy away from society. She felt it. She felt light-headed and feathery, like she would fly away at any moment._

_"I found it." She murmured, her eyes gazing lazily and unfocused, as if to reminisce. "No regrets. Just like you said." Just like_ he _had told her, no regrets._

_Her eyes closed off to the physical world, and her mind played back memories of smiling SSS members – Hisako and Yuri, Sekine and Irie, even Yui and Hinata. She smiled at the recollections, but she knew nothing could compare to the smile_ he _would always give her._

* * *

Shinn's free hand balls into a fist, the other, immobile, hovering over his heart, wanting desperately to latch onto it, to quell the searing sting - the doubting convictions. It clenches tautly, griping tightly the light, fabric clothes covering his chest.

"Because..." The character of his voice quivers with trepidation and nervousness, but he opts his throat to let the words out. Swallowing his uneasiness, he speaks. "Because she's right here." The grip of his hand tightens over his heart.

The superior says nothing, while Shinn tenses his body, preparing for any challenge awaiting him.

But the voice does not pester nor berate him with questions inquiring his beliefs. It lets out a light chuckle, a sound that causes Shinn's body to fall numb, allowing him to float about in the sea of white oblivion.

He tries to focus his eyes and his mind, but they remain agitated and absent, wandering yet failing to reach a destination. Multi-colored spots and pixels blur his vision, mixing with the blank canvas he had grown accustomed to. The techni-colored barrage blinds him, showering him with gaudy flashes for what seems like minutes before darkening into a pure, corrupted black that shields him from his white world. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them in hopes of seeing something - something _meaningful_, something _more_, but as his perception clears, his body shivers under wet, needle-like bullets berating his body. He lays on all fours, as if bowing down. His mud-stained clothes absorb as much moisture as they possibly can, dripping with excess water camouflaged under the rain. The stampeding storm muffles any sounds trying to reach his ears, but a voice breaks through the indestructible barricade.

"What are you doing here?" The innocence portrayed in the voice lightens the load bearing down on the soloist's shoulders, but even with the lifted weight, Shinn cannot bring himself to pick his body up off the mud-spattered earth.

With slightly strained effort, he directs his eyes toward the source of the angelic-sounding voice, droplets of water darting around him. Once His eyes meet the gold orbs seemingly hypnotizing his very being, his lips murmur one word - a name- under his breath, the utterance holding a tone so readable and full of questions.

"An...gel...?"

* * *

**I Do Not Own Angel Beats, or the song Stand in the Rain (which is a good song that you should listen to if you haven't heard it).**

**Anyways. . .**

**Hurrahhhzz**** for another chapter done, even though it took a while for me to actually type it up.**

**And one last thing. . . Reviews would be nice. :3**


	3. Everywhere

His sapphire orbs scan the city-like area, darting side to side, left to right, as if on patrol for something - something _meaningful_. Nothing catches the attention of the raven-haired boy, only countless individuals wrapped in their winter coats, a cup of coffee in one hand, the other occupying either a newspaper or a cell phone. Bodies pass, paying no heed to Shinn nor to the individuals they bump into. Their shoulders skim his, but he feels no recoil, the beings walking through him as if he were invisible, hollow and untouchable. He wants to call out "Hello. . .?", but the words do not sound right in his ears. He tries again but results in the same, foreign utterance. Realizing the futility of conversation, he closes his mouth, listening to the fuzzed up whispers and stutters muffled around him, piercing through his wary ears.

The shrills ring throughout his mind, like a bee exploring the depths of a new-found area, buzzing in and out of his once composed mentality. He cannot help but be driven crazy by the resounding, aching shrieks. A groan escapes his lips as his hands reach toward his ears, desperately endeavoring to quell the high-pitched frequencies and to prevent any more vibrations from entering his ears. It does not work, the screeching lingers, lurks, inside his head. He growls in frustration now, growing desperate as thoughts of insanity cross his mind.

_Anything's better than dealing with this._He contemplates, comparing the shrill to the high-pitched ringing of microphones. His cupped hands dig into the skin behind his ears, delving deeper and deeper, inch by inch, as his mind skids on the border of insanity.

_Make it stop…_The little boy in him screams, his inner child conquering the plains of his mind, his thought.

_Make… It…_

"STOP!" He nearly cries, his lungs drawing any possible particle of air they could muster.

"Stop. . ." He pants, heaving breaths his body longs for, his hands finally falling to his sides.

The shadows of his obsidian hair shield his eyes, his shoulders slouched, and his back slightly hunched over as if his legs will give out in the next few seconds. His legs are weak and trembling, the same state his heart is in, but he cannot voice his faults, his feebleness. After all, it was a tacit code to conform to society's rule, to ignore common sense and true sentiments, to conceal genuine self-expression and sugar-coat the world's darkness. He could feel his mind slipping into that darkness, that forgotten, hidden universe.

**_'Cause you're everywhere to me. When I catch my breath it's you I breathe._**

His ears perk up, and his eyes, which had been closed, now open and focus toward an unknown direction, the one that will lead him to the mysterious melody.

**_You're everything I know that makes me believe; I'm not alone._**

He knows he's on the right path, his senses aware of the melody's proximity.

**_You're in everyone I see. So, tell me – Do you see me?_**

He spots her – the face he had grown accustomed to, the fuchsia hair he had grown fond of, and the distinguished, vermillion eyes that would always capture his own cobalt ones – those eyes that read and resonate in the depths of his soul. He opens his mouth, but his words slur, choked by the dryness of his throat. "You're..." He starts but clears his throat before repeating the statement, gaining one extra moment to collect his thoughts. "A-Are... Are you..." But the organization of his mind clutters and reverts back to its jumbled state, and the words stop behind the clump in his throat.

"Shinn?" Her voice is unsteady, uncertain, but it gathers said boy's mind and snaps him back into reality.

"Masami?" The name rolls off his tongue, feeling alien in his language. He could tell that she felt as bizarre as him using her first name, silently noting to remember the uncomfortable shifting of her feet. "Iwasawa." He corrects himself.

The vocalist perks up, straightening her stature and giving him her full attention. Her eyes briefly lock with his icy orbs, freezing them in place.

She closes her eyes to rid herself of the chilling feeling, but upon opening them, she finds nothing but pure white surrounding her, soon followed by the formations of familiar figures - figures letting her know that it was all merely a _dream_. She sighs, willing her body out of the contentment of her dream world and readying herself for another seemingly-endless day.

* * *

"Where am I?"

"My house."

"What happened?"

"You fainted."

"You took me here?"

"Yes. Yuzuru helped me."

Shinn glances over at the burgundy-eyed red-head, who, in turn, smiles back. The soloist loses his voice, his words, no phrase nor grammatical result fitting the context of his mind - that is, if his mind were not in the muddled state it was presently in. Angel remains oblivious to his current bewilderment; Otonashi, on the other hand, attempts to relieve him of the feeling.

"Kanade, why don't you make us some tea?" The red- head suggests, his eyes briefly contacting with Shinn's. "I'm sure it'll help him clear his head."

Angel silently obliges, adding a skip in her step. Once her fleeting figure disappears into the kitchen, Shinn takes the initiative to explore his surroundings, allowing his sapphire orbs to wander about in the mainly white, palace-like house. His eyes scan his current location: a lavender-colored carpet layering the floor, light hues of red, almost pink, embellishing the curtains around the windows, full book shelves resting against the white walls, and a crimson-colored sofa with gold trimmings in the center of the room along with a small, glass coffee table. Otonashi was seated in a radiant-red sofa chair across from Shinn, who was sitting on the couch. Pools of cobalt continue to survey the area before stopping on something vague and wistful, something black and white, something ivory that so obviously required musical abilities. Shinn stares at the oversized object in the corner of the room, situated adjacent to the window holding an unimaginable view of Angel's picture-perfect garden. He hovers a hand over his chest, accustomed to both the action and the slight ache convulsing within it. The object - the piano - had struck a chord within his heartstring. He knew, he was so certain, of its proximity to his heart, of its capability to break the torn region, and of its potency to mend the fragmented area.

No, that was not it; he was wrong. The instrument itself held little to no value in his heart, but the idea, the music, the joyous and genuine feelings associated with it, with any instrument, was what made his soul stir.

Otonashi coughs, a signal that gains Shinn's attention. "I'm Otonashi Yuzuru, by the way." He says, realizing he had not yet made a proper introduction.

"Yukimura Shinn." The raven-haired boy replies. "But Shinn is fine." He breathes out.

"So, Shinn..." Otonashi starts after noting the boy's abnormal, outlandish behavior. "Do you play?" He gestures toward the piano that Shinn had been eyeing.

The soloist hesitates to answer, some familiar sentiment surfacing in the pit of his heart. He searches his memories, each scene from his childhood, from his adolescence, from his death, from his afterlife, and even from the pale, purgatorial world he had been trapped in, playing like a movie in the back of his head. He still wonders about the white world that had encased him along with the origins of the all-knowing voice that he had heard. He still, in that moment, wonders where, in all of creation, he was.

A distant look consumes his eyes, and he finally wills himself to answer. "I play guitar." He says slowly. "And sing too, but I never was in a band. I prefer to play solo." It was not a factor of pride nor arrogance but of the social awkwardness and slight inferiority he felt when surrounded by large groups of people, but he had, for the most part, overcome all that back in the afterlife with the SSS.

He notices Angel walk in with a tray of tea-filled cups before making her way back to the kitchen, only to once again return with another tray. The contents of the second tray spread its odor throughout the air, tickling his nostrils with its spicy scent. He quietly sniffs, formulating a guess as to what the mysterious second tray holds.

"More mabo tofu, Kanade? Thanks." Otonashi nervously takes a spoonful, his throat practically burning at the food's scent alone.

Shinn smiles, satisfied that his assumption was correct. He takes a spoonful now, trying his best to fight the tears threatening his eyes and the searing burn coursing through his throat. "Thank you, Angel." He had used her codename out of habit and glances up to check her reaction, only to find her behaving normally.

"You're welcome." She replies simply, already finishing her share of mabo tofu.

She brings her tea cup to her lips. Shinn and Otonashi share a look - one of slight amusement and one of nervousness - both their eyes moist from the tears burning through and their mouths swollen red from the infernal searing.

Otonashi gulps down his tea, gently setting his cup down before further interrogating the soloist. "You said you play guitar? And sing too, right?" He waits for Shinn to nod, continuing after receiving the gesture. "Do you know anyone named Masami Iwasawa?"

Shinn straightens up in his seat, having been idly running his index finger along the rim of his tea cup. Pools of cobalt now gaze into burgundy ones, as if investigating, analyzing each subtle movement, each concealed sentiment, and each scrap of information they seem to hold. In his ears, the red-head's question seemed quite rhetorical, not only to him but to all three beings in the room. He wonders if that Otonashi character knew about his time in the Afterlife, with the Battlefront, with GirlDeMo.

"Yea." His tone sullen with silent sadness and hollow with nostalgia.

He takes a sip of tea, forcing the liquid to continue down his throat, a small scowl forming his lips. He preferred drinking coffee much more than tea, but he comments only on the subject at hand.

"I met her, along with her band, at the Afterlife Battlefront." He shifts his attention from the red-head to the Angel, who paid heed only to his voice. He stops, settling his eyes on the ivory instrument in the corner.

"Kanade told me that you were one of the first members of the SSS, that you found peace before I came." Otonashi states, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. "What's your story?"

Shinn sighs - quietly inhaling before heavily breathing out, the subtle odor of green tea mingling with the overpowering scent of mabo tofu. "I don't know much about my biological father. Only that he died when I was 8 and left an acoustic guitar in my stead." The memory of a man much older than Shinn forms in his mind, lustrous glints in his sapphire eyes and a certain, eerie shine in his assuring smirk.

"My mother remarried, and my step-dad wasn't exactly the nicest guy in the world." His teeth clench, and his brain tells him to shut his mouth. But he disregards the rising anger and cautious advice.

"He would beat me, disparage me, blame me for everything, and point out all my faults." His step-father was the reason he had resolved to steel his heart against any and all emotion, along with the actions associated with it.

"My mother knew about it all - the beatings and insults - but all she would do was smile." Smiling was a sign of happiness, and happiness never lasts for more than a moment. But after spending so much time with the Battlefront, he had changed his mind about the concepts of contentment.

"She smiled as if everything was okay, as if we could all live as one big happy family." As if closed off to the world around her, his mother would merely smile.

"I felt so trapped between the assaults, the criticism, and above all, the false happiness. The only liberation I felt was when I would sing and play guitar." Freedom had no place to reign in his world, no time to conquer the invading forces that had captured and burdened him.

A small smile graces Shinn's lips, Otonashi and Angel silently noting the slight happiness at the mere mention of music.

"One day, my step-dad took my only source of sanity and destroyed it, saying that I should focus more on my studies." Cobalt orbs hide behind eyelids as Shinn continues his story.

"I snapped. That guitar was the last of my real father's mementos, and my mom just smiled through all of it." He shakes his head, his bitter tone surfacing before diminishing as quickly as it escalated, his eyes still secured shut.

"So, I wanted to know. Would she still smile if I threw my life away?" He lets out a sigh, now revealing the cool tone of his eyes and the frustration, the regret, they held. "Then, believe it or not, Iwasawa was actually the first person I met in the afterlife."

"Maybe you two were fated for each other?" Otonashi muses aloud, attempting to alleviate the gravity of conversation.

Shinn stares blankly, nothing in particular focusing in his tired eyes. He lets out an airy chuckle, his soul stirring and his heart aching for the happiness he so desperately desires to find. "Maybe…"

* * *

"So Yui, the school festival's next week. Hinata comin'?" Hisako asks, her voice a bored tone. School had just ended, and with the aforementioned festival approaching, GirlDeMo had resolved to play in it.

"I think so." The pinkette replies, her thumb and coiled index finger pinching her chin. "Why?"

Hisako shrugs. "Just wondering. Maybe Yuri and the rest of the gang will come too, right Iwasawa?" She looks toward the vocalist, whose focus is on an easily-memorable guitar pick.

"Maybe." Iwasawa replies, still staring at the small object.

* * *

**I Do Not Own Angel Beats**


	4. Karma

"Hello? Earth to Iwasawa! Anybody home!?" Hisako waves her hand in front of the the red-head, her own silver orbs observing the blank, outlandish look in the vocalist's.

"Huhh?" Iwasawa replies, her response sounding more like a hummed grunt.

The brunette sighs, the other band members - Sekine, Irie, and Yui - raising an eyebrow at their leader, whose guitar has fallen limply to her side, strapped loosely across her chest. They watch her body going through the motions, movements of singing and playing that would - and should - forever bring to her being joy and passion no longer elicit the feverous vitality and blissful authenticity they once drew out. They know of her heart's condition, of the visible holes and fragmented cracks unevenly adorning its exterior, of her heart-felt endeavors and struggles to repair the fractured tragedy. They know of her soul's incompletion, of its undone arrangement, missing the similar something that her heart aches for, wishing for, yearning for, longing for the final puzzle piece of her secret self to return, to be found.

"Hey, Red."

The voice - moreso the nickname - causes Iwasawa to perk up, to snap herself back into reality and gather her mind. Hisako grins, satisfied that the nickname given to the vocalist still makes her stand at attention.

"We were all eavesdropping." She chuckles uncontrollably, stifling a snort. "You and him were on the rooftop late at night."

"Talking for at least an hour." Irie chimes in, followed by Yui and Sekine.

"It was really cute!"

"And romantic!"

Hearts replace their pupils, and their hands clasp together, the three younger students briefly losing themselves in their brilliant memories. Vermillion eyes observe the surrounding reactions before they, themselves, lose their way in their whimsical remembrance.

* * *

_She had not expected company at such a late hour, at such a solitary place. The starry sky told her that curfew had already passed, but she did not care nor make any effort to rush to her room - to someplace less open, less exposed. For the atmosphere soother her; the midnight breeze kissed her paled skin, causing her eyes to close in complete and utter bliss. The world around her disappeared, dissipating into the darkness caused by her covered eyes, obscuring every spectacle of external light, every possible source of potential radiance. She stared into the obscurity, gazing distantly towards the far-off voids surrounding her. She looked into the alluring darkness, forgetting the purgatorial world of NPCs, the imprisoning hell her past life was, the disgusting looks of lust from boys and men alike, the problematic alcoholism of her father and withdrawals of her mother. She forgot all about the absolute ugliness and feigned beauty of the world, as well as the sapphire-eyed outsider standing beside her._

"Hey, Red."

The voice almost startled her, but she stayed quiet and composed.

"What are you doing up here so late?"

"Red?" She raised an eyebrow, curious about the obvious nickname, but receives a mere shrug and slight chuckle in response. A sigh escaped her lips. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I always go to the rooftop at night. It beats staying cooped up in a little dorm room." He placed the guitar case that had been strapped to his back on the ground, carefully resting it against the cold rooftop railings and making sure it stands upright. "So, what's your reason?"

"I just finished writing a song." Her vision shifted from the stars to his sapphire eyes. "Wanna hear?"

Shinn nodded before handing her his guitar. "It's not going to sound too different, is it?" He eyed her cautiously, aware that the two songs she had previously written - Crow Song and Alchemy - had been composed to fit the style of an electric guitar.

Iwasawa shook her head. "It's mainly an acoustic song." She said, fitting the guitar strap to her size and tuning the strings to her liking. "It's called God Bless You." Her eyes closed as the melody overtakes her soul, the rhythm beating and stirring and pulsing within her heart, taking her to freedom, to truth - rather than falsified liberation and feigned happiness.

* * *

Her heart permits her to smile, but her brain forbids the action of reminisced contentment. Her heart remembers its missing half, its absent puzzle piece, its stray fated string, pacing its own cadence to fit its own solitary rhythm. Her heart had intertwined with his, completely and utterly given in to him while his heart to her, completely and utterly in submission, in harmony, and in unison, with one another. But a frown forms her lips, and her heart shivers in its cold situation, wanting nothing more than to twist and turn in full completion.

* * *

_He applauded her, her song of grace and beauty blending with her actual feats. "It sounds nice." He said simply._

She raised an eyebrow, opting for an explanation but receiving a mere shrug and slight chuckle instead. Silence followed the next few minutes, neither musician daring to break nor interrupt the comfort of the wordless air. Pools of cool vermillion and orbs of cobalt stared distantly off into the night, into the star-filled sky showing off its full moon and hiding the sun, temporarily concealing daylight and reflecting the mirrored moonlit glitter. They were content with this, - the wordlessness, the lack of communication - this moment of placidity: two kindred spirits taking in the midnight air, needing no exchange of words or phrases, the presence of each being quelling the desire for idle talk and chit-chat. They were content just pacing their hearts with the beating of the other. Minutes, maybe hours, passed before the boy breaks the comfortable silence.

"Have you ever asked yourself why you're here, what your purpose is?"

Shinn answered before Iwasawa could even open her mouth. "The point of death isn't to escape life or to run away from reality. It's to forget about time, about the boundaries that chain us down to the real world, to let go of our regrets and to stop merely existing." He sighs, observing the orbs of the cool beauty staring up at the twilight sky. "To be born again, forgiving life and all its cruelty."

She replied immediately, not waiting for him to catch his breath. "How can you forgive a life that tormented you, cheated you and berated you with unjust casualties, punishing you when you've done nothing wrong!?" She did not mean to snap at him, but the animosity swelling within the pit of her chest had just exploded.

Her elevating anger, however, dropped, lessened, minimized as if the burst had never occurred - all because of the boy unevenly beaming at her. The smirk embellishing his smooth face made her curious, a bit suspicious, but curious and calm nonetheless.

"Because despite all the crap that happened, despite feeling lost and alone and fending against the world and losing, something good did come out of it." His smirk turned into a smile, sapphire waves staring directly at the fuchsia-haired vocalist. "I met someone who makes me feel so second-rate that my knees just give out whenever I hear her voice. She makes me feel so inferior, but I don't mind it."

A smirk formed her lips, and a word unconsciously slipped out of her mouth. "Whipped." Her lips muttered, causing the boy to frown and pout.

* * *

"It's obvious who he was talking about." Hisako deadpans.

"Soo obvious." Yui grins.

"That you could see it miles away." Sekine chimed in.

"I'm just surprised that you remembered exactly what he said." Irie faces the vocalist, smiling innocently while three pairs of eyes follow her pure gesture.

Iwasawa turns away, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest while she wills each and every ounce of blood to stop rushing to her face. She sighs and hopes that her band mates took no note of it, counting on the collected, composed facade to hide her. A pang shocks her chest, but she dismisses the subtle convulsing. Of course she remembers everything he said; it was the last conversation they had together.

* * *

He is dreaming; he is so sure that he is dreaming. He is so sure that he would never find himself situated in the cold, white world again. But his eyes answer what his heart dreadfully anticipates, his spirit shrinking in tepidity, his brain sensing the omnipotent, all-knowing, voided presence that he had never longed to once again encounter. The presence chills him to the bone, and the booming voice of both subtlety and authority, of might and knowledge, resounds familiarity in his ears.

"Do you believe the invisible hand that guides and dictates? Or is life simply a series of opportune moments, of pure luck and chance?" The masculine tone inquires the raven-haired boy.

He inhales deeply, extending the breath out, taking out the doubtful air surrounding him. "I believe in miracles of the heart."

"Miracles of the heart." The voice repeats, slowly letting the phrase drone out as if analyzing every underlying implication in Shinn's words. "Define 'miracles'."

He pauses, relieving himself of another pent-up breath. "Something extraordinary, whether it's felt or seen doesn't matter. It's the changes we go through, the wondrous songs of our hearts, the melodies of our souls, the melding of two different rhythms, beating, resonating as one."

His eyes had closed, and through the overwhelming obscurity of his eyelids, a figure forms. The voided black prohibits the clarity of the figure, but Shinn recognizes, from the masculine physique and lustrous sapphire eyes piercing into his soul, the man too distant for him to meet. His own cobalt orbs shine azure with freshly-formed tears, with nostalgic emotions that shoot like bullets into the depths of his being, rendering useless the sheltered barricade he had created for his soul. He knows the man from his past, the man whose keepsake he had adopted and surname he had taken to continue the willful legacy of fighting and freedom. "Dad..." His mind searches the drought consuming his thoughts, failing to capture memories that would make such sentiments surface. He swallows the lump in his throat and turns away, maintaining the endeavors to hold his emotions.

"Why?" The utterance narrowly passes his own ears, his voice cracking as if worn out and decrepit. The urge to face his distanced father pesters him, and he reluctantly succumbs to his will. But the figure had been altered and blurred, changing from the framed form of a man to the slender physique of a woman. He squints his eyes slightly in hopes of clearly seeing the new form. Tears fall freely, but the boy desperately wanting to stop the waterworks continues to fight the feelings out of his control. The figure is clear now, and the barrier so expertly-crafted around his heart shatters entirely. He slouches, feeling so open and exposed - something foreign to the adolescent youth who had grown accustomed to the safety of his own armor.

"Iwasawa." His raven hair hangs over his pools of metallic sky, his lips forming a small smile. He cannot help but feel inferior in the grace of the ethereal goddess, but he had no concern in that department - only caring to hear the voice of the heavenly being. A pang shocks his chest, but he dismisses the subtle convulsing, aware that his heart was given, completely and utterly and willingly, to the girl with the vermillion eyes. A chuckle frees itself from his confined lips, knowledgeable of the mirage in front of him.

"Don't worry; I'm on my way." Sorrow-filled sapphire pulses with cobalt assurance, and he hears the voice one last time.

"Choose the path of miracles you wish to pursue. I am aware of all, and I will only observe." Shinn nods his head to no one in particular, the convulsing berating his body growing stronger and stronger.

* * *

His body jolts his mind awake, and he can already feel several pairs of eyes observing his next movements. Orbs of burgundy, of gold, of emerald and royal blue and much more stare him down as if he were some extraterrestrial alien, but he did not care; he had already reunited with most of the SSS members with the help of Otonashi and Angel and was informed about the concert the diversion squad would play at their school festival.

_GirlDeMo._ He corrects himself, noting the disbandment of the official Shinda Sekai Sensen. His eyes scan his surroundings - he remembers getting on a train after reacquainting with Yuri - observing the scenery flashing by as well as the friends situated around him. A song comes to mind, and he silently sings to himself, fixing his eyes on the sun resting just above the horizon, remembering all the lyrics with ease. After all, how could he forget the words of the song his cool beauty had sung to him that last night on the rooftop?


	5. The Broken Ones

_She's endured assaults and burdens far greater than I can imagine; the least I could do for her is bear the blows of mere words. I'm not saying that words mean nothing, because sometimes they're everything - all you want to hear, all you have to hear, all you need to crawl out of the darkness of oblivion and into the brilliant lights of hope._

_Sometimes…_

_They are all you have._

* * *

**_For you who have stumbled, I give you this song and the courage to fight once more._**

He is breathless.

He cannot remember a time when his lungs, his diaphragm, would not allow him to draw breath, to expand and take in the much needed oxygen that would circulate throughout his veins. He cannot breathe, nor hear the muffled audience silently roaring their cheers and applause, nor see clearly the world blurring around him. His unfocused, sapphire eyes concentrate on one thing, one person, only - the being voicing her introverted thoughts, singing her true sentiments, allowing her once-armored heart to break free of its hardened confinement. His world is a blizzard of blurs, a snowstorm of abstractions, and the only thing in his focus is the vocalist with the vermilion eyes he had grown fond of.

"It's about time you showed up." Hisako sighs, Shinn nearly forgetting the presence of the brown-haired guitarist standing beside him. "You really took your sweet time, ya know."

"I didn't really know where I was for a while." He chuckles nervously before noticing the attire of the brunette. "Nice shirt." It was plain white with a picture of GirlDeMo, as well as their logo, imprinted on it, Iwasawa in front of her band mates.

**_The tears you shed say: _**

Hisako glances down, responding once registering the sincerity and slight sarcasm in the comment. "The photography club took it one day while we were practicing; so it's not surprising that Iwasawa didn't notice them." Silver orbs scan their location - the dark room behind the stage, surrounded by beloved SSS members silently listening to the ballad of the vocalist - eyeing the pools of azure contentment wordlessly observing the cool beauty in the spotlight.

Shinn does not reply, leading Hisako to believe that her words have merely gone over his head, that his attention was directed solely to the vocalist and nothing else, to the girl whose song stated each unspoken word, each unexpressed emotion, that the two regretted, fought, and fended against in the doubt-filled lives before their new-found paradise. Cobalt orbs meet the cool vermilions of the goddess under the stage light, freezing the being whose heart he had melted and synchronized and desired for so long. He sighs in satisfaction, finding peace in the other-worldly beauty of his soul mate and losing and completely immersing himself in her song.

Hisako snorts, attempting to stifle her amusement in the boy's absolute, undivided immersion. "You both got it bad." She manages to spit out before making her way towards her other band mates a few feet away.

_**Thank you for the miracle of allowing us to meet in this sullied, ugly world**_

The soloist rolls his eyes, glancing at the shadowed smiles and smirks of his comrades, fully knowledgeable of their awareness of his situation. It was no secret, after all, how the soul of the raven-haired boy had completely and utterly intertwined with that of the fuchsia-haired girl. He shakes his head, briefly closing his eyes as he rids his mind of all but the liberated, shattered mirror finishing her special song - with all the passion she could muster, all the torments and taunts she had endured so long ago, all the heartaches and heartbreaks she had been assaulted with, all the empty vessels and shells of nothingness she had faced and stood against, she finishes her song. His lips curve upward, shining cobalt orbs observing the mighty, watered, crimson gleam in the vocalist's stare. She strums her guitar one last time, permitting the nylon strings to ring out her song's final chord.

Her feet carry her, slow, unsteady steps lightly thumping her off stage. She can barely see the uneven beaming of the boy she had so long desired to reunite with, his body a darkened contour in the unknown oblivion. Standing in front of him, she mutters his name, her voice unsettling and uncertain, quivering and wincing at the sapphire familiarity piercing into her. "Sh-Shinn?"

His ears perk up, and his smirk grows slightly wider, favoring to rise higher right, just as she remembers. "It's been awhile, Iwasawa." He had considered using her first name but decided against it - he will wait until the other members of the Shinda Sekai Sensen are gone, or at least not focusing all their attention on the two.

"A-Are you-" She cuts her voice off abruptly, taking time to swallow the lump in her throat before continuing. "Are you real?" It sounded so childish, so immature, like some little girl clinging on to the fleeting foot of her father. It sounded so unlike her - the intonation her voice had portrayed.

He smiles sweetly, the corners of his lips curving evenly upward, before taking her hand and fitting it into his, interlacing the incomplete indentations of their fingers, connecting and melding the rhythm and beat and pulse of their hearts in absolute placidity - just as it had been, just as it should be. "I feel real enough, don't I?" He whispers in her ear, allowing his body to fall slightly limp for closer proximity.

She inhales deeply, letting his sweet scent rise up and linger within her nostrils, breathing out so slowly as to savor the pleasure-inducing aroma emanating from his body. Everything seems so surreal, so perfect, - the reunion of the souls she had promised to once again encounter; she contemplates - it all just seems too flawless. Her eyes glance from their intermingled hands to his orbs of azure assurance, realizing their difference in height - the top of her head reaching just below his nose.

Pools of cobalt lock with nostalgic vermillion, Shinn recognizing the pleading, puppy-like look in Iwasawa's expression. He remembered it all too well - it was the last contortion her face had scrunched into, the last exchange of silent words and tacit understandings that the two had shared before he wordlessly vanished and seemingly stopped existing. Her hands tremble in his rough, calloused ones, the softness of her skin contrasting with the tough exterior of his scarred wrists - unsmooth and unnatural, pestering and tugging at the hearts of both musicians.

Tears blur the vision of the fuchsia-haired vocalist, abstract blears dimming her already-obscured perceptions. She cannot stop them - she cannot prevent the fluent flow of waterworks streaming down her cheeks or the reinforced barrier around her battle-hardened heart slowly chip away and deteriorate the remainder of her old, shattered soul. She cannot help but remain skeptical about her reality, about his physical being and absence and long-awaited return, inquiring the sudden miracle that the universe mysteriously had played out.

"I missed you." Shinn mutters quickly, noticing the small stream falling freely from her glazed, vermillion eyes.

Iwasawa had barely caught his words. Her cautious, clueless expression turns into one of slight amusement, of teasing and provocation. She smirks, her lips curving unevenly upward, favoring to rise higher right. She is glad he admitted it, because now she does not have to.

But the words escape her sealed lips, finding freedom in the air of piercing restriction.

"I missed you too."

* * *

_Because words are not mere phrases spewed from society and conformity; they are not mere labels nor empty manipulations used to convince individuals of the false freedoms and guaranteed liberations promised to reside alongside their imperfect human selves._

_Because whoever said sticks and stones hurt more than words is wrong. You can always heal the cracks in your bones, but the words targeting your heart, the bullets berating the barrier that protects that fragmented area chip away and tear down the armor…_

Never Ceasing.  
Never Ending.  
Never Painless.

* * *

**A/N: I Do Not Own Angel Beats.**

**Also, I couldn't think of a good way to end this... So Sorry to whoever gets this far into reading my FanFic. **


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